Mix breed
by Nutcase friend
Summary: Set directly after the battle of Blackwater, when The Hounds bastard daughter, Tanrea, comes to the capital, with a skill similar to Varys'. Will her talents of secrets and whispers help her or get her into a load of trouble. And the Hound dreams, while on the run, of his times with Tanrea's mother, Rylene Florent. Rated for possible inappropriate content.
1. Chapter 1

Hey readers! I'm just putting this up becaue it's been rattling in my brain for ages. Please note that Tanrea is my OC, and does not exist in the books or shows. but everything else is owned by George R. Martin, and all rights are to him.

* * *

Varys tottered down the corridor with a particular hurry in his step. He hoped to the seven heavens that he didn't run into Baelish, and would be caught in another banter competition. Varys passed multiple corridors and rooms, passed maidens, maids, squires, even the humble Podrick, and finally reached a staircase that wound around to the top of the tower of the Hand. His footsteps made soft * _pft pft*_ sounds as he made his way up the stairs. When he reached Lord Tywin's chamber, Varys gathered his wits and all his internal strength. He wasn't carrying any particularly damaging news, but you could never predict how badly you'd be burned by the head of house Lannister.  
Varys knocked on the heavy wooden door, and heard the smooth growl of Tywin's reply.

"Enter."  
Varys pushed opened the door and shuffled in, closing the door behind him politely. As usual, Tywin was bent low over his desk, writing furiously to who knows. Varys didn't dare try and spy who or what it was about. That was for his little birds, and if he was caught by Tywin trying to read letters not meant for the eunuch's eyes, there would be trouble.  
Tywin looked up, and nodded at the bald, pasty faced man. Varys gave his usual polite bow, and waited for Tywin to allow him to sit.

"Greetings, Lord Varys. Take a seat. I'll be with you in a moment."  
Varys smiled, even though the bald and powerful man would not see it. But Varys knew that the air in a room can change, depending on emotions or expressions, and that air can be read by people like Tywin. It was only a minute before Tywin put down his quill, and folded his hands before him, looking expectantly at Varys.

"I've come today to inquire whether you heard about a certain death, Lord Tywin." Varys started.

"As it happens, I haven't. Please, tell." Tywin sat back, giving an amount of attention that Lord Varys was grateful of.

"Lady Rylene Crane, former Rylene Florent, has died three days passed in the night after her sickness finally took her."  
Tywin nodded. "That is a shame. She was an intelligent woman, and charming I'll say. She isolated herself from the war, did she not? But why does this concern us? Her family have sided with Stannis."

"It's not Rylene who I have mainly come to tell of. More her daughter."  
Tywin tilted his head, and his pale green eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Lady Delena."

"No, My Lord. That is Rylene's Niece. The daughter I speak of is Rylene's only living child, the bastard girl Tanrea Storm, the Smiling Fox."  
Tywin went silent. Varys knew that Tanrea's existence was an annoyance to the pale-eyed Lannister. She was a reminder that he could not control his dog 24/7, even before the creature left during the battle of Blackwater.

"What of her?" Tywin snapped.

"Well, my Lord, she has come seeking work. I'm sure you're aware of her profession."

Tywin shifted his jaw. "I hear it is something similar to yours, Lord Varys."

"Indeed. She has a certain knack for gaining information, and being the unharmed messenger. She carries her messages with confidence that no one will steal them, and has never been killed or harmed, successfully anyway, for carrying these messages. No one is sure, however, whether she reads them before she gives them to those she is meant to be delivering to."

"And this makes her dangerous." Tywin said, resting his fist on the table before him.

"Why no, my Lord, this makes her useful." Varys said with a smile. Tywin raised his chin in skepticism, looking down his nose at the spider.

"I see. You want to take her into your business."

"In a way, yes. She could hold secrets to houses and people that we could use. Use to hurt. Use to hurt powerful, powerful people, my Lord."  
Tywin pouted for a second, then nodded.

"However much I don't like your business, Lord Varys, it does have tremendous uses from time to time. But keep this girl far away from me and my family as much as possible."

"And why is that, Lord Tywin?" asked Varys the master of whisperers, although he already knew.

"Because that girl is a reminder of disloyalty, rebellion, and forbidden affections. The only time in the past I ever doubted the Hound's loyalty, was when Tanrea's mother Rylene caught his eye. When I commanded him to escort her when she was to be married off, I had no idea what would follow. And then she got pregnant." Tywin huffed at the memories. "I did like Rylene, but that was foolish of her."

Varys cocked his head for a second, and stated, as if trying to remember something long forgotten, "I had heard that when Tanrea was born, Rylene locked herself in her chambers for weeks, only admitting her faithful maid, and the two dogs she kept."

"Yes, and that was the two weeks the Hound disappeared from the Capital." Tywin said, with more venom than normal.

"There is rumour from Crane's hold," Varys continued, "That a great shadow managed to climb through her window soon after Tanrea was born, and stayed by Rylene for a time."

"Undoubtedly true. The Hound was a faithful dog, but that hiccup in his duties caused me concern for a time. He's lucky that when he turned up out of the blue that I didn't turn around and have his head for desertion. And it is said that Tanrea is the perfect combination of fox and hound."

"It is, my lord. And I intend on using it to our advantage." Varys said. Tywin waved him to leave, so Varys rose, bowed, and left the chamber without any more on the subject.


	2. Chapter 2 A Fox and the little bird

Tanrea could smell it before she saw it. And she could see it before she heard it. And she heard it before she cared about it.

The capital. Where the poor get poorer, the rich get richer, the holier get filled with holes. Tanrea had heard many things, but a septon being ripped limb from limb? It was almost as bad as what the Dothraki sometimes did to each other.

Tanrea's palfrey was itching to get there faster. She'd gone along the road with a little less food than she liked, and Tanrea felt sorry for the little beast. Malice, she'd called her. Though the mare was anything but malicious.

Tanrea patted the mare's neck and let her canter to the gates of King's landing.  
The gates were open, and people were flocking from all over the kingdom. Women, children, and men. Farmers, inn keepers, cooks, retired knights or guards, relieved workers from houses of lords who couldn't afford to pay for their services.

Tanrea felt sorry for the whole lot. She was one who could cruise right on through all his and still keep her head. No one dared try to kill her, after so many had failed. And in every house, estate, castle and keep, she was allowed a place at their table and a night in their bed. These people however, were locked out, shunned, spat on, called pigs and beggars. But what is one to do when that is your only option left?

Tanrea stayed at her place at the back of the line, waiting patiently while the line moved forward as most were let through the gates. She was one of the only ones mounted, and many in her position would just ride the lower ones down, but she had patience, and she had pity.  
Besides, this was one of the best places to hear the gossip.

She heard of the rumours of Jamie and Cersei Lannister, but she had long already known those. She heard of king Joffrey's horrible attitude and lack of mercy. Yes, she'd heard that too. Varys's slyness, Littlefinger's cockiness (and cock), the Queen across the narrow sea, the missing Arya stark, the dead Eddard stark, the captured Sansa Stark, the rebelling Rob Stark, the enraged Catlyn Stark, the innocent boys Bran and Rickon Stark, and the Black Brother Jon Snow.  
She'd heard all of this. None of this was new to her. They were just different takes on each one.

"The woods aren't safe anymore where I lived," Croaked an old man, and the sadness in his voice would have broken Tanrea's heart if she wasn't used to the sound.

"The wolves are getting bolder and bolder. They took my daughter…her husband as well... and their children.  
Tanrea had heard these rumours too. Except they were ones she knew for certain were true. She had heard the wolves at night when on the road. Hundreds of them. The ground had vibrated with their calls. But luckily they must have been eating some poor bastard's flock of sheep or cattle, and not noticed Tanrea's lone passing.  
At this point the old man had broken into tears. Some stranger woman and her could-be husband were comforting him.

"I saw it." He said, his whole body quivering, and you couldn't see his eyes among the grieving wrinkles. "I saw the great beast. The Direwolf that's leading them."  
This caught Tanrea's attention, and she looked intently at the old man.

"She was huge. _Huge!_ She looked right at me. I was hiding in the holding in my daughter's barn, and the creature looked right _at_ me. It was horrible." The old man collapsed into the kind woman's arms and she patted his balding head and shushed him as he cried a poor old man's tears.

"Bullshit." Spat a man, big, burly, probably a smith or carpenter, by the stains and scars on his fingers. "No one would live after seein' a Direwolf like tha'. That man's jus' workin' us up."

"Leave him be." Snapped the kind woman.  
Tanrea looked at the old man with interest. If what he said was true, then yes, why didn't the Direwolf eat him?  
She scanned his face.  
He looked similar to the Maester at Winterfell.  
Maybe that was why the great Direwolf let him live. It was no doubt the wolf that Arya stark had to chase off after it was rumoured to attack the then prince Joffrey. So that wolf would have known the maester. And possible would have let this old man go because of it. Direwolves were as intelligent as they were big.  
Tanrea waited for the rest of the day before she finally talked to the guards, who let her through after seeing her sigil, a fox with a letter in its mouth.  
The city awaited her inside.

* * *

A knock came on Sansa's door.

"Come in." she said politely, hoping to all seven gods it was not Ser Meryn. But the knock was too soft for that horrid man.  
It was Varys who entered, and paused at the door at the sight of Shae, who was brushing Sansa's hair.

"My lady," he said, bowing to Sansa.

"My Lord." She said, not forgetting herself, despite her surprise at his entrance. Varys rarely talked to her, but when he did, he was kind. She wondered what news he had for her this time.

"Lady Sansa, I am delivering a request by King Joffrey and Lord Tywin." Said the bald man.

"You may sit." She said, and waved Shae and brush away. Shae put the brush away and stood behind Sansa as the red-head turned on her seat to look at Varys, as he took up the seat near her. Sansa was always glad at Shae's presence. The girl had a venomous power to her that Sansa lacked.

"The city has a visitor. Lord Tywin insists that you meet her, and dine with them tonight in the hall. King Joffrey, The Queen regent, Lord Tywin, Lord Tyrion, Lord Baelish, myself and the guest will be there, along with Prince Tommen."  
Sansa blinked. What did they want her there for? Why would she be of interest to this guest? And why would Lord Varys not tell her who it was?

"May I know the guests name?" asked Sansa carefully. Varys smiled.

"Not just yet. But I promise, you will be glad of her arrival. She is friends with everyone in the kingdom, and to people beyond. Your father and mother were some of those friends."  
At the mention of her parents, lost and dead, Sansa swallowed. She will not cry in front of Lord Varys. She will not.  
The pain was not as fresh as it was, but not as stale as it will be.

"I would be honoured to accept the invitation." She said, knowing full well that it was not a choice. But she would have anyway. A friend? To her parents, yet welcome in the capital? A friend to everyone in the kingdom and beyond? And a woman at that, it appears. How could one grow to be so powerful?  
Lord Varys smiled. "I'm sure the Queen will be glad of your presence."  
Sansa looked at her hands meekly at the mention of the Queen. Cersei was still cruel to her, but it was far better than the King's company. Sansa still had bruises from his knight's beatings.

Again, the Hound's twisted and scarred face rose in her mind, and the thought that he would not be there to protect her ever again was a bruise all too different. His gruff voice had been a comfort occasionally, as much as it had been a curse.

"Well if that is all," Sansa said. Varys nodded, stood, and turned to leave.

"Varys." Sansa said, not sure why she had stopped him, until he turned around once more. "This visitor, can you tell me anything about her?"  
Varys smiled kindly, his hands folded on the insides of his robes. "That her bark is just as bad as her bite."  
And with that, he left the chamber.  
 _  
Bark. Bite. Are they one of the houses that has creature as their sigil? But that could be dozens of houses!_  
Sansa ran through all the ones she knew off the top of her stressed mind.  
Could it be a Florent? No, they had sided with Stannis. A Mormont? No, the two men of that family were on the wall or off banished.

A Stark? NO! They were dead or traitorous, or missing.

The Boar of Crakehall? It didn't seem likely. The badger of Lydden? The creature of Reyne? The hounds of Clegane? That thought just made her heart pang.

The wildcats of Wyl? No, they were from Dorne, so how could they be friends with the Lannister's as well? That left the Crocodile of Reed, but that was preposterous. Why would the frog-eaters come here?

Sansa was getting dizzy with overthinking, so she simply focused on making herself look her best for the mysterious guest.  
She had her maids run a bath, to wash her hair and rub the grub away. She would then have to pick a dress. She would think about it after.

Shae washed and brushed her hair, streaming it through the water, and then drying it as much as she could. It would simply dry before the dinner would begin, Sansa hoped.

Now came the decision of the dress. She knew it would take her hours to decide, if she was also distracted with the fearful and excited thoughts about who this person could be.

Her mind went around and around for a long while, as she tried to decide on a dress. She decided on a blue one, with long sleeves to hide her bruises and a moderate neck line.

She chose a thin chained necklace, and had Shae put her hair up, to hide parts that were still damp from her bath.

When Meryn came for her, gruffly because he could not strike her this time, she was ready. Shae followed her like a sleek wild cat, ready to hiss at anything that came near Sansa.

When Sansa entered the hall of the Red Keep, she was glad to see it was not a large crowd. King Joffrey was naturally placed at the head of the table, with Tywin on his right hand and the Queen on his left. Next to Cersei was Prince Tommen. Next to Tywin was Baelish, and next to that was Tyrion. The fact that he was here, made

Sansa relax for a bit.

Between Tommen and Varys was an empty seat.

And Next to Baelish was the mysterious woman.  
Sansa was taken aback at how young she was. She couldn't be more than a couple of years older than Sansa herself.

"My Lady Sansa." Joffrey said, and indicated to the empty seat. Sansa curtsied, and paced towards the seat. She couldn't help look to the woman…girl. The girl seemed to be watching her with mischievous eyes, and Sansa could have sworn that she _winked at her._  
Sansa looked away and took her seat.

"Varys tells me you're curious to as to who our guest is." Said the king, smiling his malicious and overly excited grin. One that taunts and tortures.

"Yes your Grace. I was simply wondering."

"Mother, tell her."  
The Queen smiled, surprisingly genuinely, and said, "This is the Lady Tanrea Storm, the… daughter of Rylene Florent."  
The girl smiled, and Sansa immediately saw the fox in the eyes, in the orange and red flecks in her dark brown hair, and in the narrow face.  
 _  
Her Bark is just as bad as her bite. This is the Smiling fox. My father gave her meat and mead whenever she required it,_ thought Sansa. _The Messenger who cannot be killed.  
_ There was many names for this girl, but only one mattered to Sansa. _The Hounds Pup. Gods, this is Sandor's bastard daughter._

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Sansa said.

"And you, dear Sansa." Said Tanrea. Sansa was surprised that her voice was not gruffer, that her eyes were not dead, but an orange-brown, a trademark of her mother Rylene.

"How is your mother? I heard a while ago that she is sick." Sansa asked kindly.  
Tanrea bent her head a little. "That's why I'm here. My mother's sickness took her not a fortnight ago."

"Oh, I'm dearly sorry."

"It's quite alright. You did no wrong." Tanrea said. Sansa was further surprised at how well-spoken she was. Sansa would never imagine any daughter of the Hound's, or child at all, to be speaking so kindly, and with no swear words at all. But it made sense. Tanrea saw none of her father at all, it is said.  
Conversations continued as usual as the food was served. Nothing came up of the war and tyranny.

But Sansa observed the difference in attitude, once everything had relaxed. Tanrea laughed and spoke loudly to Tyrion and Baelish, drinking with them as if she were a squire. They shared stories of times long past, of lovers long gone, and of great things they'd read. They spoke often of books.  
The further the night went on, the drunker they got, and the louder they got. Dish after dish was served, and Tanrea ate everything on every one of the dishes without hesitation, and showed no signs of slowing down or growing sick.

It was well after midnight when King Joffrey grew too bored, and called the dinner to an end.

"Excuse me." Said Tanrea, before everyone left, "I would love to take a walk with Sansa, if it please your Grace."  
Joffrey looked Sansa up and down, as if assessing how much trouble she might be if he let her go. After pouting and resting his hand on a dagger at his belt, he said,

"Alright, you may walk and talk any boring lady business, considering you've talked about everything else with my Uncle and Councillor." It was genuine amusement in his eyes as he said, with no taunt or tease.

"Thank you your Grace." Tanrea said, curtseying. Tanrea looped her arm through Sansa' as easily as if she was sliding on a slipper. Sansa was led away from the others and along the corridor. Sansa could feel that Shae was right behind her, possibly watching with as much curiosity and suspicion as Sansa was feeling. Tanrea was incredibly steady for someone who had appeared to have gotten quite drunk.  
They strolled in silence, and Sansa realised that they were heading towards the Godswood. It was quiet. But Sansa could still hear the laughter of men in taverns and brothels nearby.  
That was all very distant once they reached the Godswood.

"May I ask why you brought me here?" Sansa said, as Tanrea sat with a great humph, at the base of the Heart tree. Tanrea looked at her with clear eye and a wide smile.

"I love the trees. Heart trees, I mean. My mother believed in the seven gods, and my father no gods at all, but every time I visited your father and mother at Winterfell to deliver secret messages, I would feel welcome in the Godswood. And underneath the heart tree." She sounded amazingly clear-headed…

"How much did you drink, my lady?" asked Sansa. Tanrea snorted a laugh, a mocking and amused sound.

"Barely any at all. I don't like dulling my senses. No, I only sipped at mine, then swapped my half-drunken cup with Tyrion's emptied one, so he was in a constant loop of drinking. I know he prefers to be drunk then sober. I only acted drunk to stop Cersei from talking to me."

"Queen Cersei." Sansa reminded Tanrea.

"Bitch Cersei more like. She's the only thing I hate about this place. And believe you me, I can hate a lot of things."  
Tanrea started pulling her shoes off, and throwing them half-way across the yard, landing at the base of another tree.

"Should you be doing that?" Sansa asked nervously.

"Probably not." Tanrea answered. "I'll do anything to piss this Queen Regent off though."  
Sansa couldn't help it. She laughed. Tanrea laughed with her, then patted the grass next to her. Sansa sat gladly.  
Tanrea spotted Shae standing in the shadows of a nearby tree.

"Come here," Tanrea beckoned kindly, a gruff sound appearing in her voice, if only for a second. Shae approached smoothly but with caution.

"Sit." Tanrea said. It took a moment, but with Sansa giving a nod, Shae sat in front of them on the grass. "You're a pretty thing. But you're not from here, are you? You have a look in your eyes. I'd say Dornish, but… no. You don't seem as… I dunno. Relaxed, as them."  
Shae looked at Tanrea, a similar look as to when she'd looked at Queen Cersei at the Battel of Blackwater.

"I'm from Lorath, my Lady."

"Fuck it, do not call me 'lady' when no one else is around. It gets under my skin. Lorath? Interesting."  
Sansa had flinched at Tanrea's use of the curse. How could one change so quickly? From the polite if not slightly wild woman from dinner, to the ill-tempered and rebellious girl that sat beside her.

"You should not be so rash," Shae cautioned the guest, "There are ears everywhere."

"And they're all Varys' and Baelish's, who are two of my closest friends. They are in the same line of work as me, and besides, I am the messenger who cannot be killed."

"Why is that?" Shae asked.

"Because what I am carrying might be essential to someone or rather. A battle plan. An answer to a marriage proposal. The proposal itself. Or, I could be carrying something as useless as a love poem. Or as useful as one. One that might bring a house down because of forbidden love. Or one that will make it stronger. These are the uncertainties that keep me alive."

"But they could just kill you and take the message," Sansa said, "So how is it that they don't?"

"You seem to think that I am physically _carrying_ one." Tanrea said, with a wink.  
There was a pause as Sansa and Shae considered what she had said.

"You memorise it." Shae stated, looking at the Hound's daughter in awe. "You memorise it, then take it to them without any evidence of it."  
Tanrea nodded with a mischievous smile.

"But some of those messages and poems might be pages long!" stated Sansa, disbelieving.

"So? How in hell do you think an actor remembers his lines? Or a singer his song? Sure they have it on paper for a time, but there then comes a time when there is no paper."

"It takes days, if not weeks, for them to remember all of it." Sansa stated.

"Really? How slow of them. It only takes me an hour, if not a couple. Occasionally, but rarely, a whole night."

"You can't be serious. How?"  
Tanrea sat back against the tree, one of her knees brought up to rest her arm upon. She sat like a bowmen, after having a good long drink with the fellas. Sansa knew that Cersei would not approve, and that she would compare her to the she-man Brienne. For obvious reasons, this made Sansa smile.

"My maester said I had natural talent for memorising these things. Including social behaviours and histories. But the Gods do not just hand these gifts out without a catch. As a child also, I hated anyone who was not my mother. If she went away to a wedding or a meeting with old friends, then she would return home to be told I had run away. Each time I did this, I got sick, injured, attacked by something, or poisoned by another. I was a wreck, but I survived."  
Tanrea lifted a skirt to show them her bare leg, where scars and pock marks littered it.

"Eventually it got to the point where my mother had to take me with her. At this point I was already an expert on all the families of Westeros and their histories, along with the history of Westeros itself. But this was where I learned to put my skills to good use. I was only twelve before I found out a huge secret about one of the minor houses, and kept it to myself for a time."  
Tanrea paused here, letting the words sink in.

"So what did they do to you?" Shae asked frankly, with a strange mix of curiosity and boredom.

"Pardon? I'm not sure what you mean." Tanrea said, as sarcastic as she possible could say.  
Sansa smiled.

"Well you said 'for a time'. So you eventually told someone, right? Why?"  
Tanrea nodded to them both. "You guys are clever. Alright,  
One of their older girls from the family we visited hit the age of ultimate cruelty, around the age you are now Sansa."  
Sansa dropped her head in shame, thinking of Arya. Arya horse-face, they used to call her at Winterfell, and sometimes Sansa missed her brown hair and harsh tongue badly. She'd been so cruel to her.

"Anyhow. She started taunting me about my bastardy, how small I was, the orange of my eyes, the flecks in my hair, and worst of all was when she'd push me over and show her friends the scars on my legs and pull my sleeves up, showing the ones on my arms. After a few visits, enduring this bitchy torment, I decided she could do with a little punishment.  
So the next time I saw her with that squire in the stables, fumbling and crying out in her pathetic pleasure, I ran straight to her father. 'She's being attacked,' I yelled to him, and he and his guards followed me at a run to the stables." Tanrea laughed here, a deep, cruel chuckle. "You should have seen his face. He went as purple as a beetroot with rage, and they were right in the middle of a peak too."

"That can't be all of it." Sansa said. "That wouldn't ruin a family."

"You're right. But exposing the secret slavery business that the father was running, did. At one point, the father started taking a fancy to my mother, which pissed her husband off. They had a fight, and my good-father barely got away. That's when I exposed this cruel man. I found one of his letter to a man by the name of Illyrio, exchanging expenses after sending him some wildling slaves. I'm not sure how he tamed them, or smuggled them, but he had been doing it for years apparently. The crown convicted him, banished him, and his wife and daughter were never seen again. That was the last we saw of them.

And that was my first scandal. After that, I studied like no lady or septa ever had before. My maester even brought me things from the citadel where he learned to become a maester, forbidden documents for any woman to see. He was always impressed with my progress and never ran out of material for me to study. I begged my mother to take me to more meetings, and places of other houses. She got eventually sick of it, and got me some guards and a good horse. From there, my career grew."

The silence afterwards was strange as Sansa and Shae mulled over what they had just heard.  
And the rest of the night was one that Sansa would never forget. She felt more comfortable in that one night than she had in months. Shae relaxed and started talking more and more with Tanrea, and eventually they both started telling Sansa stories from Lorath, or other parts of the world that both had visited. Sansa told them of their life at Winterfell, and reminding Tanrea of a few times she had visited. Tanrea claimed she had been there more times than Sansa knew, because she would arrive late at night then be gone early the next morning. She spoke fondly of the trees there, the dogs, the people. However gruff Ned Stark was, he was a kind-hearted and honourable man, and Tanrea had always managed to make him laugh in the past, even though she was the Hound's daughter, whom Eddard Stark had disliked for an age.

It was only an hour until dawn when Sansa grew so tired she needed Shae's help to stand. Tanrea bade them goodnight, but made no move to leave from beneath the heart tree. Sansa and Shae left her there quite comfortably, convinced that she could take care of herself.  
Sansa sunk into her bed, feeling better than she had in so long, and she thought even Shae was in a good mood when she left to sleep.  
Maybe things wouldn't be so bad with Tanrea around.


	3. Chapter 3 Lions and foxes at it again

Tanrea was growing very weary herself after Sansa and Shae left, but she couldn't bring herself to move just yet. She patted the white bark of the heart tree behind her, thinking to herself, _haven't been back here in a while. I feel sorry for you, old tree, caged up in these towering walls. Your kind belongs in the open.  
_ A small breeze picked up, a sad breeze, and Tanrea sighed. This place had grown worse since last time she was inside this wretched city, the only comforts being Sansa, Lord Varys and Tyrion. The Hound was long gone, but it would have been entertaining to come across him again.

The last time she had, they'd had a jolly old time drinking and exchanging burning banter about how much they hated everything, calling all the rich cunts bastards and the poor, filth. At one point though, the Hound had mentioned Tanrea's mother, Rylene, and Tanrea was scared he was going to cry. It was the only time Tanrea believed the rumours. That he really had loved Rylene. How someone so cruel, such a monster, could love anyone ever? It was a puzzle that had only appeared that one night. Tanrea remembered his gruff words, spoken with a drunken lull,  
 _  
She was a bitch of a thing, you mother, with a searing temper. She wouldn' outright punch you if you said somethin' nasty, but sooner or later you'd find yourself sick or your lover run away. She was a fox alright._

The admiration and amusement in his voice had made Tanrea go a little quiet for a time, but soon they were complaining about smithies or insulting each other, even getting to the point where they were yelling and cursing, but it would once again fade into as general conversation that you could get from the Hound.

It was strange, but that memory was a fond one, of her time with her father. She had gotten the answers to a few questions about herself. How she too, was a sneaky bitch like her mother, but also had a blood-boiling need to hurt someone every now and then. When her heart would pound and her jaw clench and it always felt better afterwards when someone was dead or hurt, something that she had caused.  
She mulled over these thoughts and memories as she lay beneath the heart tree. She almost jumped a little when she heard the south of footsteps brushing on the grass.

"You seem to be having a fine time, Lady Storm." Said a smooth, deep voice. Tanrea smiled tiredly.

"My Lord Tywin. Indeed I am. That Sansa girl is quite a charming girl. Not corrupted yet, but we'll get her there."

"I will have no such thing. A wolf learning a fox's trick just equals a larger fox, in the end. I've had to deal with far too many of your kind." The man appeared from behind her on the right. His bald head gleamed in the moonlight, and Tanrea had the strangest image of herself hitting it with a war hammer to see if it cracked open like an egg. His pale green eyes flashed like fish scales and his hands were clasped in their usual place, behind his back, as he paced forward.

"Are you getting sick of us eating all of your chickens?" Tanrea joked, bringing her legs up beneath her to sit in a more proper position. This was no Cersei. Tywin was someone that Tanrea could respect, and at least act half-decently around. She quite liked the man, in a twisted, ugly, strange way.

"Your mother was one who did what she did to teach others respect, but that was all. Her ancestors were not so easily appeased with just that. I believe your great grandfather almost brought two houses to war because he was experimenting how long it would take."

"Good old Grandfather."

Tywin grunted in amusement. "And you. I've heard you have quite a gift with it, too." He said, pacing slowly in random directions.

"Most certainly My Lord. Would you like me to deliver something for you? I believe I might have done some for your children a while back."  
Tanrea saw the flash of curiosity, most likely wondering as to which children, and what it contained. She knew that Tywin would have heard the rumours, and she wanted to entertain the thought that he was trying to squash it in every form. Maybe he'll pay her a certain sum to keep her quiet. Then again, she might pay a sum of her life. But that's always the risk, and she was still alive at this point.

"I do not need your services right now. But I may in the future." Tywin said, smoothly. He approached her, then leaned against the thick trunk of the heart tree, inspecting her with his mouth in a hard line, but something is seeming to keep him in a good mood. His eyes were shining as if something was permanently amusing him. This must have been a rare thing, so Tanrea revelled in it.

"I would be most honoured to serve you, My Lord." Tanrea said genuinely. "I may stay for a while if employment is of a relevant subject."

"Indeed. Little finger and Varys are good at receiving secrets but that's what makes them dangerous. If what I hear is true, you can be trusted with any message and only are dangerous when provoked, which I perfectly intend to avoid."

"Not much can cause me to spill said secrets, My Lord, I assure you. I am quite content with enough food in my belly and my horse well-tended too, but I do not require great wealth of any kind-,"

"Save me your skilled court tongue. I know your fathers way of speaking, and such strong genes I doubt can be rid of completely." Tywin said, keeping his demeanour.  
Tanrea grinned slyly. "Your children take you for granted." She said, and he grunted with a frown.

"They just don't see what I'm trying to do for them." He paced away from the tree again. "So, is it settled then? You stay in the city for a decent amount of time, and I'll have you provided with work and your required comforts. I trust I don't have to remind you of the consequences of betraying me."

"Not at all."  
She pushed against the tree and stood, noting how Tywin knew not to bother giving her a helping hand. She retrieved her shoes, neatened herself up for the walk back to her chamber. She bid the great man a goodnight, then made her way along, comfortable with the thought that she had the respect of Lord Tywin, and didn't have to worry about his bitch of a queen daughter.


End file.
